


Light Me Up

by michael_lives_on



Category: American Horror Story
Genre: BDSM, Blood and Injury, F/M, a bit gory, and very satanic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 01:39:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17653580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michael_lives_on/pseuds/michael_lives_on
Summary: A demon girl comes from Hell to help Michael before the witches can defeat him.





	Light Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> My deep hatred for the Finale is what inspired me to write this. I was also very horny and thinking very dark thoughts, lmao

”The prophecy is inevitable. I was always going to win.”  
  
You bite into an apple, watching him from your room in Hell. Even with his face covered in blood, he’s still gorgeous. Michael Langdon - The Antichrist. The Prince of Darkness. He’s powerful, majestic and glorious, but kind of a fool. Probably because of his young age and lack of experience. You raise your eyebrow at each of his actions, shaking your head as he teases the witches, all smug and confident, like a villain from a cheap movie.  
  
”For fuck’s sake, stop talking to them and just finish them off already!” You yell, even though he can’t hear you.  
  
There’s something about this that you don’t like. Cordelia is too calm, too confident. She’s got something planned, you can sense it, and judging by Michael’s behavior, he either can’t see it or doesn’t care. He thinks he’s already won and that’s exactly why he is going to lose. That arrogance.  
  
”So much like your daddy, Michael…” you whisper, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.”  
  
You see his knife flying out of his hand and into Cordelia’s and jump up, letting your apple fall onto the floor.  _‘Michael…’  
_ __  
”Satan has one son… But my sisters are legion, motherfucker.” the witch says then stabs herself right in the chest. You were given strict orders not to intervene. That you may only watch, but provide no aid to Michael. This entire situation is his fault to begin with so he should solve it on his own, but you can clearly see that’s not going to happen. He’s not acting right. He is going to lose.  
  
”Fuck this.”

You tie your hair up in a bun - as always before a battle - and teleport yourself into Outpost 3, in the bathroom where Mallory’s Supreme Powers have finally reached their pick. You see her sitting in a bath tub, clutching onto a piece of Michael’s hair while breathing heavily. She has not noticed your presence. She’s trying to perform a spell.  
  
”I’ll take that, thank you very much,” you say, snatching the hair lock from her quivering hand and throwing it onto the floor. She looks at you in shock and you smile. “Legions were created in Hell, bitch.”  
  
Before she can even react, you pull out one of the many knives you hold onto your belt and you slice her throat open. She doesn’t even get to scream, she just gargles up a moan. Her head falls back, blood gushing out of the wound. You push her face under the water, to make the blood run faster and then wipe your hands clean as you watch her die. Michael rushes into the bathroom, ready for attack, his expression changing to confusion when he sees you.  
  
”Did you kill the other witch?” you ask him.  
  
”Yes…” He says, staring at you puzzled. “Who are you?”  
  
”I’m Y/N. I’m a demon, I came here from Hell for you. This bitch was going to time travel. She probably wanted to pull some ‘baby Hitler’ shit and kill you before you even got your powers.”  
  
He looks at the bathtub and nods in understanding, as if he was expecting Mallory to attempt something like that. ”How did you know I needed help?”  
  
”I was watching you. Your Dad gave me a magic mirror through which I could see everything you were doing.”  
  
”Really?” He raises an eyebrow. “And did you enjoy that?”  
  
”Very much. You’re quite a sight to see.”  
  
He crosses the room and stops in front of you, glaring at you from head to toe, analyzing you. It takes a moment, but he eventually starts looking like he trusts you. ”Are there any other witches?” he asks.  
  
You shake your head. “No. These were the only ones left. No one can stop you anymore.”  
  
”Good… Thank Father.”

He lets out a hard breath of relief, his body relaxing and you cross your arms on your chest. “No, thank me! I’m the one who came to save your ass. Lucifer had nothing to do with this. He didn’t even knew I’d be coming.”  
  
Michael looks at you silently, squinting his eyes, and you clear your throat, lowering your gaze. Probably not a great idea to bash your boss in front of his son. But it always disturbed you how Lucifer never personally came to help him, and how he had all these bullshit rules about not interfering with Michael’s live. If it was for you, you would have joined your Prince of darkness long ago.  
  
”I’m sorry if I sounded rude,” you apologize, even if you feel no real regret.  
  
He grabs your waist and pulls you closer, pressing your body on his. You put your hands on his chest and look up at him. His clothes are ruined and dirty and he smells of death, which you can’t help but find attractive. “No, you’re right. I should thank you for… saving my ass, the way you put it.”  
  
He licks his lip and moves his head closer to yours; you let out a shaky breath.  _‘Fuck, he’s so hot!’_ You haven’t been this attracted to a man in hundreds of years. There’s a part of you that’s worried about how his dad will react to your presence in his life, but the lust and desire you feel for him are way stronger than any sort of fear. So you let go of everything and kiss him.  
  
You can feel the iron taste of blood on his tongue. It clashes with the softness of his hair falling on your exposed neck. His kiss is tender and deep, as he tries to gently explore your mouth while attempting to suffocate you at the same time. That dualistic nature of his is something that always fascinated you about him.  
  
You pull his tattered coat down and unbutton his shirt, your fingers working faster than any human’s ever could. He laughs and pulls away from the kiss, fixating you with his eyes. “Well, you’re in a rush.”  
  
”I want you,” you confess without any shame. “You have no idea how hard it was to watch you for so long without being able to touch you.”  
  
”I appreciate the thirst,” he smirks, placing his hand on your face and brushing his thumb over your lower lip. “You should stay with me. I plan to visit other Outposts and it would be nice not to go alone.”  
  
You just grin and suck onto his finger in response. You know that he wants you to stay because he just wants to use you, mostly for protection, but that’s okay. You’ve never mind being used before and you sure as Hell ain’t gonna start now.  
  
”You should never have come here,” you tell him, when he pulls his hand away.  
  
He nods in silent agreement and sighs, looking up at the walls and ceiling. “I had fond memories of this place… But now I fucking hate it.”   
  
”Just forget about it.” You lick some of the blood off from his face, trying to distract him, but he remains absent, his mind wondering off.  
  
”We should burn it down,” he says.  
  
You pause and just look at him, unsure if he’s joking or not. “What?” He looks at you and you can tell he’s dead serious. He even has a strange, psychopathic childish glee in his eyes at the thought. “Don’t get me wrong, I love fire as much as any other demon, but we were having a moment here.”  
  
”Our moment can’t include fire?”  
  
You shrug. “I mean, whatever gets you off. You’re the Prince.”  
  
He grabs onto the back of your head and pulls you closer, kissing you again. This time he’s more passionate, tugging onto your hair, his free hand ripping apart the back of your shirt. You feel the smoke, hear the soft crackling sound of fire and when you open your eyes you find the room ablaze.   
  
”Let’s get out of here,” he says, taking your hand in his.  
  
You walk out into the hallway together, the flames following you, stepping on the bodies of the dead witches that you find along the way. Michael looks like he’s having the time of his life. If you would have known he was such a pyromaniac, you would have burned Mallory and presented her ashes to him as a gift. You’ve wrongly assumed he prefers knives over fire.  
  
”Hey, look at me,” you tell him, when you reach the staircase. You let go of his hand and use your powers to levitate above the ground, pressing one of your finger against the wall as you glide down. A crack forms along the trail you’ve drawn and hot lava begins leaking out of it. Michael watches it in awe, then teleports himself next to you, catching you by surprise.  
  
”Nice,” he whispers.  
  
He tries to kiss you again, but you pull away from him. “Catch me,” you dare him, then take off flying, cracking walls and starting fires all over. He starts running after you and you giggle. You can’t remember the last time you’ve actually had fun or played games with anyone. Demons don’t do that.  
  
Michael eventually catches up to you and drags you into one of the rooms, closing and locking the door behind him. “No more bullshit,” he warns, though you can tell he’s enjoying himself.  
  
He snaps his fingers and your clothes disintegrate, leaving you completely naked. You can sense his powers so much better now, his magic almost intoxicating, as if the fire is fueling him. There’s darkness in him more vast and raw than in ancient demons who’ve roamed the Underworlds for millions of years. His childish personality and youthful form are just a mask for one of the most destructive forces the Universe has ever seen.  
  
”I think I fucking love you,” you tell him and he lets out a chuckle.  
  
He gets rid of his own clothes and grabs you by the hair, guiding you roughly to the bed. He pushes you onto your knees and presses your head into one of the pillows. You can’t breathe but it doesn’t matter. It’s not like you can die. He probably knows that, because he keeps pinning you down as he shoves his cock inside you without any warning or preparation.   
  
The fire engulfs the room. You can’t see it but you can smell it, you can feel the heat. Michael starts thrusting hard and fast, not bothering to take it easy on you. Which is exactly what you’d helped for. He looks like a human, but he fucks like a demon. Magic energy is spilling out of the both of you, making the flames burn hotter and brighter.  
  
”Human women are so weak. They break so easily. But you can take it, can’t you? You can take all of me.” He says, pulling your head up from the pillow by your hair.  
  
”Hit me with your worst, boy,” you egg him on.  
  
”Are you daring me?” He grabs onto your throat, squeezing so hard your face turns blue. “You might regret that.”  
  
He stops moving and starts moving you instead, pulling you up and down on his neck by your throat. You close your eyes tightly, focusing on the pain and pleasure, taking it all in. His free hand moves down on your clit and he pinches it and rubs it between his fingers, using his powers to burn it just a little bit. You shudder and cum, which only makes him get rough, his grip on your neck tightening.  _‘Damn, he’s bloody amazing!’_  you think to yourself.  
  
He keeps going until he cums as well, deep inside of you, then he lets go and you fall flat down on your stomach, breathing hard. His hand prints bruise your neck and his cum is slowly dripping out of you. You look around at the burning room, thinking it’s a shame that you’ll have to stop. But Michael seems to have something else in mind.  
  
He rolls you over on your back, spreading your legs wide open and pushes three of his fingers inside your pussy. “Your slutty body was made for me. It’s such a perfect fit,” he says, while stirring up the cum he left inside you with his fingers. “You’re definitely a keeper. But how can I be sure you’re really a demon? For all I know you could be a witch in disguise, who’s been spying on me.”  
  
”I’m no fucking witch…” you assure him. You’d be way more disturbed at his assumption if you weren’t so turned on.   
  
”That’s exactly what a witch would say,” He says, pulling his fingers out of you.  
  
You take his hand in yours and guide it back to your neck. “Snap my neck, if you want. You’ll see I can’t die. I’m immortal. Witches are just pathetic humans with magic powers.”  
  
He bends down and kisses your throat, licking it slowly and teasingly. “No… I have something better in mind.” With that, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy fast and shoves his hand inside your chest. You choke violently, blood coming out of your mouth as he grabs onto your heart. He squeezes and massages it as you convulse, which is when he thrusts his cock back inside you.  
  
”F-Fuck!” You scream loudly. “Shit, this is amazing!”  
  
”You’re really not dying,” he says, impressed.  
  
You shake your head. You may not be dying but you sure feel like you are. Your eyes are wide open but you can’t see anything and your body going in and out of shock makes you have one orgasm after another. You lose consciousness for a minute, then come back to Michael manually forcing your heart to pump faster. He is fucking crazy. He’s sick and insane and you love it. You love him. He is the Master you’ve been waiting for.  
  
He eventually pulls his hand out, leaving a gaping hole in your chest that bleeds out for a few seconds, then closes and heals. ”You believe me now?” You ask, blood still dripping out of your mouth.  
  
He doesn’t say anything. He just kisses you and pulls you on his lap, allowing you to move on your own. You wrap your arms around him and start riding him, while the bed you’re in catches fire. The whole room is now nothing but smoke and flames. You don’t care though. You start riding him hard and fast, as he scratches your back with his fingernails and bites into your neck.  
  
”Is this the reward you had in mind when you came to help me?” He asks and you laugh loudly, pulling onto his hair.  
  
”Nah. It’s way better.”


End file.
